Primordial Supremacy
The air in the arena was a taut wire, vibrating with two opposing, colossal pressures. While the dramatic reveal of Yao Xuan's Ancestral Dragon Overlord Body had stunned the crowd and matched the Dark Eagle Dragon's aura, belief was a fragile thing. The legend of Spirit Fusion Skills was too deeply ingrained. Among the hushed whispers, most students, despite their awe, still mentally placed their bets on the monstrous fusion beast. Only the small cluster from Class 5—Tang Wulin at the forefront, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white—held an unshakable, fervent faith in their captain.
On the teachers' platform, Ye Yingluo's earlier smugness had evaporated, replaced by a dawning, professional astonishment. Her gaze flicked from the majestic, scaled form of Yao Xuan to the implacable profile of Wu Zhangkong. 'So this is your confidence,' she thought, a grudging respect tempering her personal resentment. 'Not just finding a diamond in the rough… but polishing a primordial gem.'
Long Hengxu's mind was racing past the immediate match. His administrator's brain saw the larger picture—the wasted potential of standard curricula for such monsters, the incredible opportunity staring Donghai Academy in the face. 'A special class… Teacher Wu at the helm… concentrated resources… They could aim for Shrek. They could put us on the map.' The idea crystallized into a firm resolve. He would propose it to the board immediately after the tournament.
In the eye of the storm, the Dark Eagle Dragon's dual-toned voice rumbled, a grating mix of Zhang Yangzi's steadiness and Wang Jinxi's intensity. "Yao Xuan! Acknowledge your limit! This fusion… its power is unstable. We cannot guarantee your safety if we lose control!" The warning was genuine, born of both competitive spirit and a shred of concern for a fellow student.
Yao Xuan met the creature's mismatched gaze. The fighting spirit within him was a bright, clean flame, not of anger, but of pure testing. "My limits are not so easily found," he replied, his voice carrying a calm that was more intimidating than any shout. "Show me everything you have."
"As you wish!"
The Dark Eagle Dragon vanished. It wasn't invisibility, but a burst of speed that cheated the eye. To most, it was a teleportation—one moment it was twenty meters away, the next, a blur of darkness and bone was already crossing half the distance, its massive claw tearing through the air with a sound like ripping canvas. Even senior students with Soul Master-level perception saw only a streaking afterimage.
'Good speed,' Yao Xuan analyzed, his senses expanded by the Overlord Body. 'But the fusion creates a slight discord in the spirit energy flow at the wing joints. Predictable vector.'
His body moved in harmony with his thought. Soul power, now a roaring river of incandescent energy, cycled. His first spirit ring blazed anew.
"Ancestral Dragon Sky-Splitting Strike!"
He didn't retreat. He pivoted on his right foot, his body a coil of contained power, and his left claw swept out in a horizontal arc. The nine-colored light didn't flare wildly; it concentrated into a razor-edge of luminous destruction along the curve of his claws, so sharp it seemed to slice the very light in the arena.
The two attacks intersected.
KRA-BOOM!
The collision was not a single sound, but a layered catastrophe—the metallic SCREECH of claw meeting enchanted bone, overlaid by the deep, thunderous BOOM of conflicting energies detonating. A visible shockwave, a disk of distorted air tinged with black and nine-colored sparks, exploded outward. It hit the soul guidance barrier surrounding the arena with a sound like a giant drum, causing the translucent energy field to shimmer violently, revealing hexagonal patterns of strain.
Students in the front rows flinched back instinctively, a wave of gasps rolling through the stands. Long Hengxu's reassuring voice cut through the noise. "The barrier is rated for Soul Elder-level clashes! Remain calm!" The students settled, but their hearts pounded against their ribs.
On the arena, the outcome of the clash was clear. The Dark Eagle Dragon was forced back, skidding five meters on its taloned feet, deep grooves carved into the stone. It steadied itself, a low growl of surprise and effort in its throat. On its right bone claw, a deep, smoking gouge was etched into the surface.
Yao Xuan, meanwhile, stood firm. The impact had barely made him sway. His scaled feet were planted, his breathing even. He examined his own claws; they were unmarred, the nine-colored light upon them flickering calmly.
A stunned silence, then an uproar.
"He… he pushed it back!"
"He damaged the fusion's claw!"
"That's not contending… that's dominating!"
"What kind of martial soul is that?! It treats a fusion skill like a training dummy!"
The teachers stared, their theory books failing them. This defied standard power-scaling charts.
Within the fused entity, Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi's minds reeled. The feedback from the damaged claw was a psychic sting. 'Our strongest combined physical strike… and he parried it. Left a mark on us.' The respect they'd spoken of moments ago crystallized into a stark realization of the gap.
Yao Xuan lowered his claw. "The match is decided," he stated, his tone not gloating, but stating an evident fact. "Persisting risks real injury to your merged spirit. Stand down."
The Dark Eagle Dragon trembled, not from fear, but from the immense strain of maintaining the fusion and the torrent of unwillingness to accept defeat. The dual voices merged into a single, ragged roar of defiance. "RESPECT… DEMANDS… OUR UTMOST!"
The dark aura around the creature suddenly imploded, then erupted outward in a violent surge. The swirling shadows and necrotic energy didn't expand; they were violently sucked inward, towards the creature's gaping maw. The air grew deathly cold and silent, as if all sound was being consumed. The bone crest on its head glowed with a vicious purple light, and the darkness in its beak condensed into a sphere of utter blackness—a void that seemed to swallow the light from the arena itself.
"DARK DEMON FLASH!"
From that sphere of negation, a thin, precise beam of concentrated darkness lanced out. It didn't roar; it hissed, a sound of entropy and unraveling. It moved at the speed of thought, aimed directly for Yao Xuan's center of mass. This was no physical charge. This was their ultimate technique, a desperate expenditure of their fused soul power—a beam meant not to crush, but to erase spirit energy and vitality on contact.
It was the final, glorious gamble of the strongest freshmen. The arena held its breath once more, the outcome hanging on Yao Xuan's response to this ultimate, darkness-devouring flash.